“Miss Dudley, there’s a woman downstairs who wants to see you,” announced Andrew, one of the orderlies.
“Didn’t she give her name?”
“No, ma’am, she didn’t. I’ll step down and find out.”
“No, no,” returned Polly. “Probably it’s about one of the patients, and it isn’t I she wants at all. If you’ll see to the ward a minute, Andrew, I’ll be right back.”
As Polly entered the reception room a plump little woman arose and greeted her.
“Why, good-morning, Mrs. Edmonson,” cried Polly. “I was just going out to your house, to take Dolly to ride.”
The woman shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid she won’t be able to go. Thank you just the same; but she isn’t a bit well.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” responded Polly.
“Yes, it’s too bad. I think it may be the heat, we’ve had such awful weather; but I don’t know. It’s about her I’ve come down this morning. I didn’t know but your father would go up and see her some day; I felt he’d be better than anybody else.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” returned Polly, “and he’ll be glad to come. What seems to be the matter—just weakness?”